


The Beast in the North

by cerberus_angel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerberus_angel/pseuds/cerberus_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There is a beast that resides in the North.”</p><p>“Call upon him if the need for aid in battle should ever arise. He has the strength to change the tides of a war.”</p><p>“Some say he cannot be killed.”</p><p>In which King Robert Baratheon, in his desperate need for reinforcements against the Dothraki who have crossed the sea, is forced to make a deal with the Beast in the North.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphireBlueJiyuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/gifts), [hobiimin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobiimin/gifts).



“No,” Cersei was the first to break the silence that settled over the room. “You are not sending Myrcella to that Beast!”

“The deal has been struck.” Tywin Lannister spoke calmly for he had been there when the deal had been made. “If we do not send her, he will come personally to collect her.”

“Then let him come!” Cersei eyes narrowed at her father. “I will not let him have her!”

“You don’t know what you speak woman,” Robert set his goblet down on the table. “You did not see the way he tore into the Dothraki.”

“And yet you used our daughter as a bargaining chip!”

 “I was desperate, but not to that extent.” Robert met her glare with one of his own. “I told him I would give him anything. I never dreamed he would ask for Myrcella. I told him no.”

“Then how did—”

“I was the one who agreed.”

Cersei turned to look at her daughter in shock as she entered the council room. “Why?”

“I am the Princess of the Six Kingdoms. My duty is to serve the realm.” Myrcella walked up to her mother and grasped her hand. “What is one life in exchange for hundreds?”

“You are not just one life to me.” Cersei whispered to her. “You are my daughter.”

 

* * *

 

It was in a cloak of Lannister red that Cersei sent her daughter away with. The Queen of the Six Kingdoms watched her go. Her twin, Jaime rode with her daughter tasked with the job of escorting the Princess to the North.

“I will never forgive you for this.” Cersei whispered to Robert. “If he hurts her—”

“I will hunt the Beast down and bring you his head.”

“It’s not his head I want.” She pivoted when her daughter was no longer in sight. Cersei could not stand being anywhere near Robert or her father at the moment.

 

* * *

 

“I believe this is where the Beast left instructions to drop you off Princess.” Jaime dismounted off the horse first, the snow crunched under his feet as he reached to help Myrcella.

“I believe you may be right Ser Jaime.” She smiled teasingly at her uncle.

He returned her smile only for a moment before he turned serious. “Myrcella if the Beast should ever…” Jaime cleared his throat not knowing how to approach the topic. “If he ever hurts you in any way find a way to send word to me and I will come for you. This deal be damned to the seven hells.”

“I give you my thanks uncle Jaime.” She went on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “But I highly doubt that will be necessary for he has made it perfectly clear that he only wants a maid.”

“Then he could have asked for any wench to fill that position—”

“Uncle Jaime!”

“I am only speaking the truth.”

A howl echoed around them.

“Wolves…” Jaime reached for his sword.

“He did say he was going to send an escort for me.”

Three direwolves came running out of the woods toward them. The one on the right had fur as white as snow and red eyes, while the one on the left had fur as black as night and bright green eyes. The one in the middle had fur as smokey grey as storm clouds and yellow eyes. They came to a halt right in front of Jaime and Myrcella.

“I can’t believe he sent direwolves to come get you.” Jaime looked at them suspiciously before turning back to his niece. “Be brave.” He whispered to her and hastily pressed his lips against her temple before pulling up her hood.

Myrcella smiled at him. “I will.”

He watched as the smokey grey furred one crouched to floor when Myrcella approached. The princess looked at it confused. It was then the black furred one grew impatient and nudged her lightly on the back as if trying to tell her to climb on already. “Be patient with her.”

It turned to growl at him, but stopped when the albino one nudged him.

“I guess this is farewell.”

Jamie took his eyes off the direwolves to look at Myrcella. Seeing her astride the direwolf with her red cloak wrapped around her, making her stand out in the field of white, a beacon amongst all the snow, a cornerstone, she looked like she belonged. He was hit with the sudden sensation that this may be the last time he sees her. “We will see each other again.” Jaime forced the words out of his throat, his hands curled into fists when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes.

She neither confirmed nor denied his words as the direwolf turned around and began to run. Her red cloak flew behind her and the other two dirwolves gave chase.

* * *

 

The castle was cold, dark, and very unwelcoming. There seemed to be no one around except for the direwolves. When she entered two more direwolves greeted her. One had grey fur and yellow eyes and the second one had silver and smokey fur with yellow eyes. They both escorted her to her bedchamber where another direwolf with dark grey fur laid on the foot of her featherbed. It opened one eye to look at her before falling close again.

The grey furred direwolf walked up to the one on the featherbed and began to nudge it. The one laying on the bed let out a huff and simply turned its head away causing the one nudging it to let out a low growl. It crouched ready to pounce…

“Lady.” 

Myrcella’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. The direwolf that had been ready to jump instantly straightened.

“Nymeria off.”

The direwolf went through the process of getting off the bed in a painstaking slow pace. She reminded Myrcella of a child who was dragging their feet.

The princess turned to look at him. And there the Beast stood right outside her door. His tall muscular frame dominated the doorway. His teeth had a sharpened edge to them that looked very threatening, hands had lengthened to resemble black claws. The brutal and menacing shadow of a wolf flickered over his features letting Myrcella see a glimpse the wolf that resided within him. It sent a chill down her spine when it grinned at her and in a blink of an eye it was gone as swiftly as it came.

Lady had gone up to him and Myrcella watched as he reached for her and ran his claw lightly through her fur as if it were second nature to him. “I trust your journey went without incident.”

“It went well…” She knew of his name, but did not know if he would like to be addressed in such a familiar manner.

“Robb.” His piercing blue eyes met hers. “You may call me Robb.”

Her eyes widened slightly. It was just like her uncle Tyrion had told her all those years ago when she had been a little girl. The Beast had a name now she must see if he had a heart like Tyrion had once claimed he had buried somewhere deep inside.

“You must be tired. Rest and tomorrow you can begin.” Robb did not wait for a response as he took his leave.

Myrcella could only stare at the now vacant spot wondering. She felt something nudge her hand and looked down to see Lady. The direwolf sat on her hind legs, her tail wagging showed her excitement. Myrcella found herself smiling as she reached down to pet her. From the corner of her eye she caught sight Nymeria jumping on the featherbed again and made herself comfortable on the foot of it. She took a seat on the bed feeling a bit more settled in.

It was surrounded by three direwolves and the snow beginning to fall on the outside that her tale with the Beast truly began.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be done two months ago for RobbCella week, but I wasn't able to finish it in time (its still a work in progress). Originally it was supposed to be a one-shot, but it kept on expanding as I wrote it out and now I think it will be up to five parts. The second part is almost done so be on the lookout! ;)
> 
>  
> 
> PS: Jan, Dani this one is for you guys. The both of you were a constant inspiration and support during RobbCella week and continue to be. I want to give you guys something I have been pouring my heart (and love for our babies Robb & Cella) into. I love you both so freaking much! *hug* Thank you for being there and showing me that is perfectly fine to bask in all the RobbCella feels. =D


	2. Chapter One

A fortnight had passed before they crossed paths again. Robb would leave her letters with instructions on the dining table when she came down to break her fast. Myrcella would only be able to catch glimpses of him through the windows when he would go out into the snow and wander into the godswood with the direwolf that she rode upon. She found out his name was Grey Wind after Robb wrote it in one of the letters that he had the direwolf deliver to her. That was the way she found out the names of the other three remaining direwolves.

Myrcella smiled upon seeing Ghost waiting for her by the dining table when she entered the dining hall. Her breakfast was served and waiting for her just like every other morning. A letter lay by her plate with Robb’s familiar scrawl. She supposed with his claws he couldn’t have very impressive penmanship. Myrcella split her bread in half and offered one the halves to Ghost. The first time she had done it the direwolf had simply stared at her offering not seeming to comprehend that she was sharing her food with him. After the first three times Ghost had become used to it and would either nudge her hip or lick her hand to show his gratitude. From all the direwolves he was the quiet one, Myrcella has yet to hear him growl or whine always silent and watching. He had become her confident.

She opened the letter and had to re-read it twice. “He can’t be serious.” Ghost simply remained silent and tilted his head as if wordlessly telling her to elaborate, but Myrcella continued to stare at the letter incredulously. “What is the meaning of this?” Her food long forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

“I thought I told you to rest for the day.”

His voice startled Myrcella and as a result she dropped the teacup she had been dusting off with a rag. It hit the table before landing on the floor. “Forgive me!” The princess exclaimed as she quickly picked it up. “I didn’t mean to.” A frown marred her features when she noticed that it had gotten a chip.

“It’s just a teacup.” Robb responded a bit taken back by her reaction. “I can always get another.”

“Oh…” She placed it on the table meeting his gaze, but not knowing how to address him when he seemed to actively be avoiding her.

“You have not answered my inquiry.”

“I didn’t know it was question it sounded more like a demand.” A part of her regretted letting the words slip as she bit her bottom lip to keep from saying more.

“My apologies Princess.” Robb stepped further into the room and watched with hint of amusement as Ghost came to stand by her side.

“Please do not call me that.”

“But that is what you are.”

“I’m not one here. I am less of a Princess just as you are less of a Beast,” Interest sparked within Robb when she flinched at calling him that, “when you are in your homeland surrounded by your direwolves.”

 “You may have a point…”

“Myrcella.”

“Myrcella.” He bit back a smile. “So I ask you, why are you not resting?”

“There is nothing else for me to do with the time you have given me.” Her hands wrung the rag she held.

“Have you explored Winterfell?”

“Some places, not all. I don’t wish to get lost.”

“That’s not possible. All the direwolves know their way around here. I’m sure Ghost would have led you to the right direction. Although I’m a little surprised that Summer has not shown you the library room.”

“You have a library room?”

“Did you think that we Northerners are illiterate?”

 “No!” She said quickly feeling flustered. “That is not what I meant! You misunderstood me!”

“Did I?” He asked a smile threatening to show.

“Clearly you know how to write since that is the only manner you have chosen to communicate with me.” Her eyes narrowed on him, feeling more confident when she saw the corner of his lips tug upward. “It is safe to assume that you can read as well although your penmanship does require more practice.”

“I must admit that I do not know whether to be amused or insulted by your words.” Robb crossed his arms over his chest trying to appear more intimidating but was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t cower like countless of others before her except for a certain Lannister that had crossed paths with him over a decade ago. She reminded him of that man, it seemed only fitting that she would. “But it doesn’t matter. Do you wish to see it or not?”   

She placed the rag on the table and graced him with a small smile. “Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

Myrcella did not know what to expect when Robb opened the doors to the library room, but the sight of shelves from the ground to the ceiling overflowing with books filled her with nostalgia. It reminded her of the library room in the Red Keep, even though it was slightly smaller and not as well lit. Many parts of the room lay in the shadows for not all the candles had been lit.

As she stepped further into the room, her gaze moving left to right, up and down, not knowing where to look as excitement coursed through her veins. For the first time since arriving she felt an ounce of genuine joy. She was making a mental note to personally clean the room, open the curtains to let light in and make the room more homely. Myrcella came to a full stop when she saw a fire lit in the fireplace, but it was not the fire that caught her attention.

Summer lay on the furs that were spread over the ground in front of the fireplace, a book was open in front of him, his head bowed as he looked down at the words. As if feeling her gaze on him, the direwolf looked up and met her gaze; he gave a nod acknowledging her presence before turning his attention back to the book. Myrcella knew that the direwolves were smart creatures, smarter than most, but she had no idea they could read and so she watched with wide eyes as Summer dragged his paw over the page to flip to the next one.

“You may come here whenever you like.” Robb’s voice echoed from behind her. “This room and everything inside it is at your disposal. It is my gift to you.”

“Why?” Myrcella turned to face him shocked. “I am your maid.”

“That does not change the fact that you are the one keeping me company…  It is the least I can do for you.” He moved toward the east side of the room as if looking for a specific book. “There are multiple books ranging from the Old Gods to the origins of House Stark and all the other Houses that reside in the North. There are also tales of brave heroic knights and their fair maidens.” He snorted. “Those are Sansa’s favorite, but Arya despises them with a passion.”

Myrcella took note of the way Summer’s head shot up when Robb mentioned Sansa and Arya. The southron princess had no idea who the girls Robb mentioned were, but she knew they were important to him because she could hear the affection in his tone.

“She preferred to hear tales from Old Nan.” His claw reached for a book titled _Tales of the North_. “Old Nan used to say ‘Fear is for the winter, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides for years.’ So tell me Myrcella, have you ever experienced that type of fear?”

“No.” She had to force the words out as shiver traveled down her spine at his words.

“Old Nan would call you a ‘sweet summer child’.”

“Did you experience that fear?”

“Once long ago when the moon hung high in the sky and the snow was tainted crimson. The long winter came when we were at war.” He glanced at her. “How much do you know of the Targaryens being overthrown?”

“Prince Rhaegar had taken Princess Lyanna and King Aerys was losing his sanity, which led to his downfall.” She said the little that had been told her.

“Aerys was not losing, he had lost his sanity that is why he was given the name of the “Mad King”. What you mentioned is just the surface.” Robb approached her with a book in hand. “Would you like to know what really happened all those years ago?”

Myrcella wanted to respond eagerly, but hesitated. Her mother and father rarely spoke of the North, her uncles except for Tyrion would change the topic. What was it about the North that had those residing in the South going silent? Yet no one hesitates to speak of the tales of The Beast that resided in the North.

 _“The North had once been a prosperous land…”_ Tyrion’s voice echoed in her mind. _“In some fashion it continues to be. Once long ago the North had opened the doors to the South, anyone was welcomed to travel into the land of winter. Now there is an unspoken rule that those in the South must remain there unless summoned to the North. The Beast that resides there enforces that rule.”_

“I don’t know much of the North.” She watched as Robb settled on the floor beside Summer in front of the fire.

“I’m not surprised.” A frown marred his features, his gaze unwavering from the flames. “Would you still like to learn the truth?”

The air rushed out of her lungs when his gaze met hers. For a heartbeat she wondered if he knew that the color of his eyes resembled the sky? That it reminded her a bit of home. It was in his blue eyes that she saw sadness and hope and she knew that it wasn’t simply about him telling her. It was about remembering. How many times did he look through his memories and yet had no soul to share them with except for his direwolves. “Yes.” She took a seat beside Summer and began to card her hand through his fur as Robb began to speak.

“It all started in the Tourney at Harrenhal. At the time it was something very exciting to look forward to, but it lost its luster when my uncle Brandon could not take his son Jon like he wanted to. As you know events in the South are stricter, where royals and lords are present bast—”

Myrcella looked at him curiously when he cut himself off. “Bastards are not welcomed.”

“Precisely…” Robb cleared his throat. “My aunt Lyanna begged me to accompany her and I agreed even when I didn’t want to leave Jon. My grandfather King Rickard tasked my uncles, father, and I to attend the tourney to acknowledge the alliance between the North and South. It was supposed to be something simple. We were supposed to attend, talk with the Targaryens and to the lords present.”

Summer’s head snapped up and turned to look at Robb.

“We did what was asked but no one could have predicted what happened.” If they had known Robb knew that his uncle Brandon and his father would have fought with his grandfather to keep Lyanna in the North. Rickard had wanted Lyanna to marry one of the Southern lords to help strengthen the ties between the North and South like Ned’s marriage with Catelyn did. No one had ever thought that Prince Rhaegar, who was married to the Princess Elia Martell from Dorne, would crown Lyanna as the Queen of love and beauty. Robb could remember how the conversations ceased and the joy of the event wilted. He should have grabbed the winter rose crown from Lyanna’s lap and thrown it back at the dragon Prince. The Others take that damned propriety that had kept him bound to his seat beside Lyanna for Rhaegar had none when he took his aunt from them.

“When Rhaegar placed the winter roses crown on my Aunt Lyanna’s lap bestowing upon her the title the Queen of Love and Beauty, it was the beginning of the end…” It was the beginning of the end of the world he knew, of the people he loved. “It was later that he took Lyanna and threatened the treaty. King Rickard traveled down South with Brandon, the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard.”

Myrcella sat silently as Robb told her of the fate that befell King Rickard, his son, and half of his Kingsgaurd at the hands of the Mad King. How Eddard Stark rose to take his father’s place and summoned for his bannermen. How he traveled south and received aid from House Tully and the other Riverland lords to take down the Dragon Prince. Only to be captured when he tried to aid Lyonel Baratheon, who had rose against the Mad King when he refused let his wife Rhaelle Targaryen return with their son Steffon, by breaking the siege that surrounded Storm’s End.        

Robb remembered the dread that had become a part of him increase a tenfold when a raven brought word from King’s Landing. The Mad King had his father imprisoned and summoned him to King’s Landing, to bend the knee and swear fealty to him. He remembered gathering the remaining bannermen to form a host and march down south. How his mother refused to listen to reason and stay in Winterfell, how Benjen demanded to go with him so he can find Lyanna and help bring her and Ned back to Winterfell. Then there had been Jon who was furious at him for not letting him join.

_“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.”_

_“I am no Stark! Benjen is! Make him stay!”_

Robb had wanted Jon to come more than anything, but he was frightened of losing him. It was bad enough that his mother and Benjen refused to listen and he’d rather have them with him than both of them trying to come up with another plan that would get them captured or worse, killed. _“When I come back with father, I’ll ask him legitimize you. You are a Stark in everything but the name. It’s about time all of Westeros knows.”_

_“I don’t care for that!”_

He knew what Jon wanted, but he wasn’t willing risk losing him to the war. He wasn’t willing to risk losing anymore of his family. _“I will personally drag the Mad King to Winterfell and let you pass the sentence.”_

_“You don’t understand. The Mad King’s death won’t bring back Rickard or…my fa— Brandon. This is war Robb… you might die. Who will look after you in battle? Who will truly be honest with you and tell you when you are being stupid?”_

_“I think you will simply miss calling me stupid.”_

_“I am being serious Robb.”_

_“I know.”_ He knew more than anyone. Jon had always been there for him, with him. They both picked up wooden swords at the same time. Snow and Stark. They both ran around Winterfell swinging them around and playing at being great knight when Ser Rodrik was not training them. Stark and Snow.  Jon was Robb’s right hand, while Robb was Jon’s left hand. They were two sides of a coin, always together and looking after each other’s back. They considered each other brothers. _“I trust no one the way I do you. I trust you with the safety of my brothers and sisters. I trust you to look after Winterfell until I return with my father.”_

_“If that is what you want then I will do it.”_

_“Farewell, Snow.”_

_“And you, Stark.”_

After all these years Robb still does not know who pulled who into the hug or if they both had stepped in and latched onto each other. All he can remember is for that one moment he hoped he wasn’t making a horrible mistake, that he wasn’t leading his bannermen to certain death, and that they will return to the North with his father as King.

He doesn’t tell Myrcella this, but he does tell her of the deal his mother made with Walder Frey in order for them to cross the Twins and acquire more bannermen to strengthen the host. He tells her of his mother’s plan to treat with Lyonel Baratheon and of how he split his host into two. One was to help take down any remaining enemy forces surrounding Storm’s End, with his father having decimated more half the forces there it would be an easy fleet to accomplish, and allow his mother to speak with Lyonel. Benjen was to accompany her and Robb made sure that all the men who accompanied his mother and uncle were of the north and would not hesitate to give their lives to protect them. The second one was to attack the Westerlands, uproot any Targaryen forces there and gather more men willing to fight against the Mad King.      

Robb tells her about their success in uprooting the remaining Targaryen forces surrounding Storm’s End and his mother reached an accord with the Laughing Storm, while he took over the Crag in the Westerlands. How their victory is short-lived as he received a message informing him that Aerys had executed his father. That same night he broke the deal his mother made to Walder Frey causing the Frey bannermen to leave his forces in anger. He does not tell her what he did or how Jon had been right, without him there beside him there was no one to tell him when he was behaving stupidly. He was alone and in pain, but that did not excuse what he did. He should have turned away from Jeyne.

Myrcella does not ask him, knowing that if he wanted to speak more of it he would simply tell her. Instead she remained silent and listens, but he doesn’t speak anymore. He appeared to be lost in his thoughts, his gaze faraway as if reliving his past. It saddened her to see him in such a state, his past bleeding into his present. She wants to bring him back into the present and lighten up the mood. “You’re a King. I shouldn’t have been speaking to you in such a manner. Forgive me Your Gr—”

“Stop. I’m not a King.”

“But—”

“If you want to acknowledge me as a King, then know me as the King Who Lost the North.”

“You won the war.” She knew without him having to tell her. The North did not bend the knee, the Targaryens were overthrown and her great grandfather Lyonel became the King of the Six Kingdoms.

“At the cost of what?” He hissed the question, his eyes glowing an eerie blue. “I lost everything in that forsaken war and for what?! It did not bring back the fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, and sons and daughters that were slain! It did not give me back my father or mother nor my uncles and aunt! It only gave me a crown and I became a beast!”

It was then she saw the shadow of a wolf flicker over his features again. A hint of fear festered within her as his glowing blue orbs glared at her, the wolf smiled viciously as if watching its prey. It seemed to want to sink his teeth into her. She felt warm breath behind her neck and fur brush against her arm. A gasp slipped back her lips and from the corner of her eye she caught sight of white. Her hand grasped Ghost’s fur, but her gaze remained on Robb. “What about your cousin, your brothers and sisters?” Myrcella regretted the question when the shadow of the wolf flickered out of sight and see could see the guilt and pain in his gaze.

Summer had sat up during Robb’s loss of temper and let out a whine before nudging Robb in the shoulder. Grey Wind who had been lurking in the background with Ghost came to Robb and took a seat beside him. “I lost them in that war.” Robb placed his claw on Grey Wind as if trying to round himself. “It’s getting late,” he stood from his seat on the furs, “you should head to your bed chambers.” He didn’t wait for a response as he made his way out the room and out of her sight.

Myrcella sat on the floor frozen. She did not know what to feel or think. Fear and sorrow raged within her, choking her. It was the first time she truly feared him and it left her feeling ill. It was a feeling she did not want to experience again, not around him. Ghost nuzzled her throat drawing her attention. The Southron Princess wrapped her arms around him and let his warmth soothe her fear away. Robb could have hurt her if he wanted to, even in anger he raised his voice, but had yet to lay a hand on her. A part of her knew he wouldn’t for she believed wholeheartedly in the tales her uncle Tyrion would tell her of the Beast in the North. Still it did not help her in the end. _I will not fear him._ He didn’t need or deserve her fear, she knew he had seen and experienced enough fear to last more than a lifetime.

Now she knew what hung heavy in the air of Winterfell. It was sorrow. She could see it in the dust and unused room. She could see it when Lady stared into an empty room that has not been used for years, when Nymeria wondered the halls as if looking for something, when she catches Summer staring at portraits that are covered in drapes, when Shaggydog runs in the snow by himself, Ghost who silently observes the other direwolves, but does not join them and Grey Wind has the same habit as Ghost, but watches over them protectively and possessively. Myrcella sees how it haunts Robb. She had to do something. _One day I will be gone and he will still be here._ The thought did not sit well with her. “I need you to take me to my bed chambers.” Myrcella felt Ghost nod, there was much thinking and planning to be done before she can let sleep claim her for the night.

 

* * *

 

It was love that took him south. It was honor that had him breaking his vow to the Freys. It was vengeance that kept him from surrendering to the God of Death and making a deal with the Old Gods after a betrayal most foul. Once gained, he returned to Winterfell, to a world that no longer was his, but a stranger. How could a Beast ever be a King? His own bannermen, his own people looked at him in fear. It was the love for his people that had him place down his crown and work in the shadows to make sure the Northern Houses were provided for. He became the King Who Lost the North. Love led him to where he was and it was love that always seemed to bring an end to everything he holds dear. He cannot lose what he still has, he swore it off. He will not fall! Robb slammed his claw onto the wooden table.

The glass dome that held a red rose trembled under the force and the bronze crown beside it clinked against the glass. The crown was a reminder of the life he once had and the rose had been a gift of someone he viewed as a friend. A crown he would give away if there was ever a brave soul that will come to him and ask for it. A rose that filled him with despair and hope, despair over the way he had gotten his hands on it and hope for something he did not know.

An image of Myrcella with her sun kissed hair and brilliant green eyes that reminded him of luscious forests came to his mind. Guilt for the way he acted with her made its home in his subconscious. It was not her fault that it still hurt to talk about the past. He was the one that practically volunteered to tell her, he just never thought that it would still hurt the way it did. It’s been decades and yet it feels no time has passed, and the pain is still raw. _I will make it up to her._ Robb vowed as he watched another red rose petal fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the timeline may be very confusing because I changed a lot of events to fit this story. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask and I'll answer so long as it won't spoil anything. ^^


	3. Chapter II

 

 **Boom** **Boom** **Boom**

 

The sound of drums pounding sent shivers down his spine and made his soul tremble. Laughter and voices echoed over the pipes, horns and fiddles that threatened to push back the panic. Robb’s eyes snapped open to see a dining hall lit with candles. Various people sat among the tables, food and wine were in abundance as they celebrated the union of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey. Grey Wind sat beside him releasing a low growl that answered to his uneasiness, one that only his ears could hear.

“Robb.”

The sound of his mother’s voice clasped his heart tightly and made him ache when he felt her hand on his shoulder. His eyes sought her form desperately and he could not breathe at the sight of her. Worry clouded her eyes. “Are you feeling ill?”

He wanted to tell her that she needed to go. To warn the others that they must leave now, but instead all that came out was, “Don’t worry mother,” he pressed a kiss to her temple. “It’s nothing to fret over.” It was as if his body was possessed. He met Benjen’s gaze signaling him to stay close to Catelyn.   

Grey Wind shoved his snout to Robb’s ribs and motioned to the door. Robb followed his gaze to see two of Walder Frey’s bannermen closing the doors. Dread filled him, his hand curled into Grey Wind’s fur. _Give me strength._ He dared not look toward his mother.

“Robb…” Benjen whispered to him.                            

“Your Grace.”

Robb turned to Walder Frey when addressed refusing to show fear. Even when everything in his entire being told him to run. Death was coming. It hovered outside the door wanting to get in. He could feel it, had been close to it countless of times during battle, had even dealt it to others. This time he could feel the tips of its fingers touching him. Robb does not hear what Walder Frey said for he had heard it one too many times.

But just like every time before this one, he heard the distinct sound of a slap and knew before turning to look at his mother that she has slapped Roose Bolton. He felt more than heard when the first arrow is released and cuts straight into his shoulder, feels the second bite into his back and the third one knock the air out of his lungs.

“Robb!” Benjen reached for him and Robb is helpless to watch as an arrow sinks into the back of his uncle’s throat and out through the front. Grey Wind lets out a viscous growl as he pounced on Roose Bolton and bit into his throat. Smalljon flipped a table to protect them from the incoming arrows.

“Robb!” He heard his mother cry out for him. _This can’t be the end!_ Robb struggled to get to his feet. He sees Greatjon take down four Frey men before being overthrown. He sees the Smalljon trying to defend him only to be slain when a dozen of Frey men-at-arms pour into the hall. _I will kill them all._ His hand curled around a dagger he found on one of the slain. Robb breathes through the pain as he struggled to get back on his feet. Grey Wind was beside him, his fur matted with blood and arrows protruding out of his body. He leaves a trail of blood as he followed Robb.

His men are being slaughtered before his eyes. _It can’t end this way!_ Walder Frey simply smiled and chuckled as Robb reached for him. The dagger slipped from his fingers as he tried to grab hold of him. Another arrow pierced his back causing him to hold on tighter and lean most of his weight across the table and onto the older man.

“The king who lost the north.” He said as he pried Robb’s fingers off him and shoved him backwards.

Robb stumbled back and fell onto his knees as Grey Wind released a whimper and crumbled on his own pool of blood.

“Lord Walder!”

He looked over his shoulder weakly to see his mother holding a young woman that he recognized as Walder Frey’s lady wife.

“Lord Walder enough!” She shouted holding a dagger against the girl’s throat. “Let it end! Please! He is my son!” Robb could see the tears glistening in her eyes and the arrow that pierced her on the shoulder. His own eyes burned with tears. “My first son! Let him go and I swear we will forget this! I swear it by the Old Gods and New!” He was supposed to protect her, he was supposed to take her back to Winterfell yet there she stood, his mother facing death and pleading for his life.  “We will take no vengeance—”

“You already swore me one oath right here in my castle.” He said cutting her off. “You swore by all the Gods that your son would marry my daughter!”

 _That was my fault! Take it out on me! It was me that broke that oath! Kill me!_ Robb wanted to shout, but his voice would not cooperate.

“Take me for a hostage!”

 _No!_ The corners of his vision darkened as he tried to turn to his mother, but all his body did was tremble and crumble forward.

“But let Robb go!”

His body hit the ground and landed on Grey Wind’s blood. He felt cold as the blood seeped out of him, but warm where his skin touched Grey Wind’s blood. It was a sad and comforting thought that Grey Wind was still trying to protect him. His gaze met his direwolf’s piercing yellow eyes. Grey Wind stretched his neck toward him so his snout touched Robb’s shoulder.

“Robb get up! Get up and walk out!”

 _I can’t._ He wanted to tell her. His body didn’t want to listen to him. His hand twitched from the effort of trying to do something than lay in his own pool of blood. Grey Wind released another whimper that tugged painfully at his heart like his mother’s voice.

“Please!”

He could hear the tears in her voice. _Run mother._ Tears silently streamed down his face, his fingertips touched Grey Wind’s fur.

“Please!”

_Leave while you still have a chance!_

“And why would I let him do that?”

Hearing Lord Frey’s voice filled him with anger.

“On my honor as a Tully, on my honor as a Stark let him go or I will cut your wife’s throat.”

“I’ll find another.”

 _No!_ _You have to get out!_ “Mother…” was the only word that slipped out of his lips. _I promised you I would kill them all._ His gaze held Grey Wind’s and knew he too was fighting to stay alive. _This can’t be the end._  

His mother cried in anguish and heard it being cut short. _Mother!_ He heard her body hit the floor and knew she died when Grey Wind let out a whimper. _No… this was not how it was supposed to end. We were supposed to go back home. I promised to kill them all._ Robb could see Grey Wind’s eyes glowing an eerie yellow. _I can’t die here! I refused to die here! I will kill them all!_

_“Child with wolf blood, why do you fight the God of Death? He calls your name.”_

Voices whispered in Robb’s mind. Voices he remembered hearing in the wind of the godswood when he would place his hand on the weirwood or kneel before it to pray to the Old Gods. Always hearing them whisper but never being able to understand them. Bran used to tell him he heard the whispers as well. The children of the forest. _But how?_

_“Answer wolf child. Why?”_

_I can’t die. I told Jon and the others I will come back. I promised mother I would kill them all. I will have vengeance for what was done to my family._

_“And once you do, what will become of you?”_

_I don’t care what happens!_

_“If we grant you this then you’re body will not be yours, your heart will no longer belong to you. You will be our living legacy.”_

_Living legacy?_

_“You will have your vengeance, you will see your family, and you will remind all of Westeros of our existence. Do you agree with our terms wolf child?”_

_Yes!_

_“Then so it shall be.”_

Robb saw Grey Wind’s eyes return to their normal yellow as the world around him began to shake violently. This isn’t right. This was not part of the memory. Images begin to rapidly run through his mind as a familiar voice reached his ears.

_“Wake up!”_

Blood. It was everywhere. It was on his hands and clothes, it was on Grey Wind’s fur. The smell of burnt flesh filled his lungs and fire licked at the walls roaring over screams.  

_“Robb!”_

The image faded away and he was standing in an abandoned corridor, one he that walked in almost every day now. A little boy with dark colored hair and dark eyes, stood before him, watching him with wonder and fear. The boy did not run from him. “You’re the king in the north.” He whispered to him.

_“You have to wake up!”_

_Jon!_

 

* * *

Robb eyes snapped open to meet eyes as dark as the night sky. “Jon,” he sat up alarmed. “What are you—”

“There is no time to speak!” Jon said in a rush. “The princess approaches.” In a blink of an eye he was gone and in his place stood Ghost.

A soft knock comes from his door. Robb threw the shredded covers and quickly climbed off the featherbed that his claws had torn into in the midst of his dream. More like remembering than dreaming or was that his dreams consisted of him solely remembering, always haunted by the past. He can feel Grey Wind gaze burning into his back and glanced over his shoulder to see his direwolf’s eyes were their normal yellow. He leaves his spot on the bed and followed after him. It is only when Grey Wind is beside him that he opened the door. Robb did not know what he expected when he opened the door. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to her see, it was much too soon. The sight of her caused something in him to tremble. Her hair was in disarray and she had hastily thrown on a robe and came bare foot.  _Why?_ The concern in her gaze had his claws digging into the oak door. He was not ready for this, for her. “Why did you come?”

“I heard you yelling.”

Her words did nothing to calm him, it only angered him.  _Why is she doing this?_ “What of it?” He growled the question. “Did you think to come here and soothe the beast?” His voice distorted and animalistic.

“I did not think that—”

“There lies the problem!” Robb cut her off. “You did not think!” He couldn’t deal with her, with the way he felt sickened when he saw that he hurt her with his words. He can’t think straight, not when the death of this mother and uncle were still fresh in his mind, the death of his bannermen. Grey Wind nudged his hand with his snout, grounding him and the anger slipped away only for sadness and regret to take its place. He had vowed to make it up to her and yet here he was yelling at her. It was not her fault that he decided to speak of the past nor was it her fault that he dreamed for the first time in decades so vividly of the massacre. Silence reigned over them.

“Forgive my intrusion Your Grace.”

“Myrcella—”

“You are right in assuming that I was not thinking,” She said raising her voice over his. “I’m must be touched in the head for ever wasting time on worrying over the man that has taken me from the only home I have ever known and from the people I love.”

With each word Grey Wind lowered his head and pulled away from Robb as if every word Myrcella uttered hurt him physically. He released a whine that Robb hadn’t heard in a very long time. It hurt him more than any sword cutting into his flesh ever did. “Do not simply think to place the blame on me. It was your choice.”

“What choice was there? It was either I go with you or watch my people get mugged, raped, and killed by the Dothraki. My father was losing, that was why he summoned for you. I am a princess of the Six Kingdoms, I am meant to serve the realm and my people mean everything to me. I thought you all of people would understand that, is that not why you became a beast?”

“I did not tell you that.” Her words shook him to the core. “I never said that.”

“You said the war gave you a crown and you became a beast. Why else become a weapon of the Old Gods that ignites fear in the hearts of men? No one has ever challenged the North, not since the Mad King. By becoming the beast you protected your remaining family and your people.”

It seemed that the longer he remained in her presence the more he was beginning to see why Tyrion spoke so highly of her. He hadn’t believed him for she had been just a child at the time, but seeing her now as a young lady and hearing her insightfulness, he had been wrong in ever doubting the Lannister. She was as dangerous as she was beautiful. “Perhaps I have made a terrible mistake in bringing you here.”

Myrcella had never encountered anyone that could ever anger her as much as Joffrey. She feared that if she remained any longer in Robb’s presence she will give in to the urge of pounding her fists against his chest and consequences be damned to the seven hells. “I believe it is best I retire for the night.” She curtsied. “I ask once again that you forgive my intrusion Your Grace.” Myrcella does not wait for a response as she pivoted.

It is only when she begins to walk away does he see Lady, Nymeria, and Summer. Lady was quick to follow her not bothering to glance at Robb, and Nymeria shook her head in disappointment before following the princess and Lady. Summer glanced between the retreating princess and him, but in the end he followed his littermates. Robb couldn’t fault them for choosing to go with Myrcella, he knew he was at fault. He should have stopped her and apologized, but it wouldn’t change anything in the end. Once words were spoken they can never be taken back. He remembered his mother warning him about it when he was a boy.

Ghost who had remained inside the bed chamber throughout the exchange met his gaze.

“I know I behaved like a beast to her, but in my defense I am one.” He swore he can hear Jon yelling at him,  _“That may be what you look like, but it’s not who you are!”_ Robb waved him off. “Just go to her.” He went to lie in his ruined featherbed as Ghost made his silent exit. “You should go with him Grey Wind, it will put both of our minds to rest… I need you to follow her and make sure she is well.”

It was only when he was alone that he turned to his side and curled into a ball. A few moments later the featherbed dipped under added weight and warm fur touched his back. He uncurled and turned on his other side to see Shaggydog peering at him. No words are said as he wrapped his arms around him. Shaggydog was the only other one than Grey Wind that had ever felt Robb tremble under the onslaught of emotions he tried to keep under control, he’s the only one that had ever heard the shaky breaths Robb took.

Once long ago it was Rickon that held tightly onto Robb’s leg when he was hurt or frightened and if he was not preoccupied Robb would hold him in his arms. Now it was Robb that held onto Shaggydog, who was the closest thing he had to Rickon at the moment.     

 

* * *

 

Laying on the featherbed, her hands fisted the covers and her face buried in the pillow, Myrcella never felt more alone. It was a fact she would constantly push back, but at the moment as her body trembled with mixed emotions of anger and despair she couldn’t.

Her mother was not there to tell her to compose herself. Her father was not there to simply sigh, motion her closer, and with the warmth of his palm on her head ground her. She even missed the sound of Joffrey’s angry huff and stomping retreating steps whenever he saw her in tears. Tommen’s small hand running through her hair to soothe like their mother had done when they were little and Myrcella continued to do long after their mother stopped. She missed her uncle Jaime’s hugs, and her uncle Renly jokes that never failed to make her laugh. Even her uncle Stannis’ comfortable silences were better than the dead silence that surrounded her in this bed chamber. A silence that had settled in for years and Myrcella could feel it choking her.

But from all her family her heart called out for her uncle Tyrion, the only that was ever brave enough to wipe her tears away. The one she never stopped missing or reaching for even though she knew she will never be able see or touch him again. The one who would tell her about the Beast in the north. _Why? Why did you ever tell me about him?_

Myrcella was brought from her musings when she felt a familiar warmth settle over her feet. She lifted her head from the pillow surprised to see Nymeria laying on the foot of the bed. Another familiar warmth settled on her back and from the corner of her vision she saw Lady. “I am most grateful to you,” she whispered to them as Summer jumped on the featherbed and settled next to her. _Maybe I’m not so alone._ Her eyes burned with unshed tears and curled an arm around Summer, holding onto him.

It is only when she caught sight of Ghost’s white fur settling on the side of her bed did she let sleep claim her never knowing that Grey Wind had entered the bedchamber and closed the door. She does not see him settle beside Ghost and watch over them. She does not know he has always remained by Robb’s side during all the nights when he is in Winterfell. She has no idea that this is will be the first night he leaves Robb’s side and spends the night with the princess.

 

* * *

 

Myrcella woke up shivering. She slowly opened her eyes to see Nymeria standing at the end of her featherbed with the corner of the blanket clasped in her jaw. She had blink more than once at the sight. Dark golden eyes widened slightly as if surprised that she would wake up so soon.

“What are yo—”

Nymeria finished yanking the cover off of her and held it prisoner under her.

The princess could only gawk at the direwolf whose dark golden gaze echoed with mirth. “You’re laughing at me.”

She let out an amused huff before motioning with her snout toward the door that led to the bathing chamber.

When Myrcella made no move the direwolf grew impatient and lightly head-butted her shoulder. “I’m going, I’m going.” She tried not to smile as she was forced off the bed.

 

* * *

 

The morning seemed to be full of surprises. Not only had warm water had been drawn out for her to bath in, a small folded letter lay on top a blank sheet of parchment with a quill and ink well beside her food.

She glanced at Ghost who seemed to be watching her more carefully then usual. Myrcella took a seat and reached for the letter ready to read her instructions for the day.

Only one word was written on it.

_Write._

Her heart trembled and her eyes blurred with unshed tears.

She wanted to write to her mother and her uncle Jaime. She wanted to write to Tommen. She ached for it, but…

Her hands refused to move. No matter how much she wanted to grasp this opportunity with both hands, she couldn’t. _What would I write to them?_ She could not tell them how alone she felt or how Robb had hurt her with his word and she did not have the energy to lie to them with written words.

Ghost nudged her hip.

Myrcella blinked her tears away and forced a smile on her lips as her gaze met knowing crimson eyes. “We should eat.”

After she broke her fast she made no motion to grab the parchment or quill. She left them there on the table.

Ghost cast one last look at the abandoned items before following the princess.   

 

* * *

 

“Cersei,” Jaime said as he watched his sister give the letter to one of her handmaids. “Do you think this is wise?”

“Send this to the Iron Islands.” Cersei waited until the handmaid closed the door. “Two moons have pass since I have last seen or heard from my daughter. I do not know if she is alive or—”

“The Beast will not have killed her.”

“How do you know that?” She hissed the question. “None of you worry over her like I do. Not Robert who drowns himself in his wine and whores, not father who refuses to listen to me when I mention Myrcella, and not you!”

“Do not throw me under the same category as your drunk for a husband and our loving father,” Jaime said through gritted teeth. “I promised her that I will come for her if he hurts, she only has to send word. I have yet to receive a letter from her.”

“Do you think that Beast will let her write!? Are you touched in the head Jaime!?”

“I am not, but you must certainly be darling sister. If the Greyjoys take your offer and if they attack Winterfell to get Myrcella, do you not think that the Beast will retaliate?” Jaime placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “He was the key factor in pushing the Dorthraki back across the seas. You did not see the way he tore into those men. You may have just written the death of your daughter.”

“I’m trying to protect my daughter! You expect me to just sit here, while he keeps Myrcella doing what only the Seven know!”

“I expect you to wait!” He snapped. “This is the first time the Beast has ever asked for this kind of price, for whatever the reason he may have he chose Myrcella. He will not keep her though.”

“How can you be certain?”

“She’s a princess. If he does not return her there will be war between the north and south again.”

“But he can’t be killed.”

“Cersei ignorance does not suit you. Did you not pay attention to the lessons father forced us to sit in with the Maester? The Beast came from the war and he has kept the peace since before our birth.”

“He does not want war.”

“Precisely and that is why he will return Myrcella to us, but that all may change now that you have recruited the service of Balon Greyjoy.”  

“Jaime I would greatly appreciate that you do not underestimate me.” A patronizing grin graced her lips. “Do you remember the rumor of the ironborn child that had snuck into Winterfell?”

“Cersei that was only a rumor.”

“But it’s not. I have written to Alannys Greyjoy and she has confirmed that it was her youngest son. He returned with a small chest filled with gold as proof of his conquest. I have written to both her and Balon Greyjoy asking for him to do the same task, but this time I want him to look for my daughter. I want to know that she is unharmed and that Beast is not treating her poorly. I want him to deliver a letter that I have written for her and to return with one from her.”

“It sounds like a good plan, but there is one small problem.” Jaime took a seat on the chair across from her. “How will you get Balon to agree with your plan?”

“I have promised them a very handsome reward. One that he will find impossible to say no to considering his circumstances.”

 

* * *

 

Myrcella stirred from her sleep. Her right hand reached out for warm fur, but felt none. Her eyes snapped open to see darkness. She sat up and tried to calm the dread that coursed through her veins. Lady and Nymeria were supposed to be with her. She knew that she fell asleep with them on the featherbed.

Only her breathing sounded in the room. Without much thought Myrcella shoved the covers off of her and climbed off the featherbed. She knew the layout of the bedchamber by heart now and walked out without a struggle.

The candles in the hallway were lit chasing the darkness away.

Myrcella grabbed one of the candle sticks as she walked further down. She was not certain why she was wandering the halls. Perhaps she wanted to find the direwolves, but she knew the reason why as she made her way to the library. It was the only place she felt comfortable lately. As she approached the hall that led to the library she could see candlelight and hear voices spilling from the open doors.

“It’s been over a full moon since they argued.”

Hearing a voice that was not Robb’s or hers had her come to a full stop.

“I am more surprised that Robb has not lashed out with the princess rejecting his apology time and time again. What do you think Jon?” A young boy’s voice echoed down the hall. It beckoned Myrcella forward.

A throat cleared. “Leaving blank parchments, quills, and inks wells are poor ways of apologizing.”

“I agree with Jon.” A soft melodious voice spoke.

A little girl snickered. “Winter must be coming to an end if Sansa is agreeing with Jon.”

“Oh hush Arya, this is not a joke. Robb was in the wrong and he needs to make this right.”

“He is trying.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Do you not think you are being a bit cruel in saying that?”

“No. You saw the way his words hurt her.”

“He did not mean them! Robb is not a cruel person!”

“We know he is not cruel person, but there are times he can say cruel things.”

“Jon—”

“Admitting this aloud does not mean we love him any less.”

“That is correct, Bran.”

“Jon, do you know why he had her brought here? Is it necessary for her to be here?”

“I thought you liked the princess, Bran?”

“I do! It is just that… she seems to be getter sadder with every morrow that pass by. You see it too, do you not?”

“She should not be here.”

“Arya.”

“It is true!”

“I thought you liked her too?”

“And that is why I say she should not be here.”

“I believe the two of you do not see how truly strong she is.”

“Sansa—”

“I speak nothing but the truth. The fire in her eyes has dimmed considerably since she has first arrived but it has not wilted away. If Robb is not careful she will burn him.”

“Jon, speak some sense into her.”

“She is a Baratheon and a Lannister.”

“Oh no Bran, they are agreeing again. Go take a look outside and see if it is still snowing!”

“Settle down the both of you.”

“You did not answer my question, Jon.”

Myrcella tiptoed closer to the doors.

“There is no need for her to be here...”

“Then why?”

“It could be that he simply wants her here.”

The breath rushed out of her lungs.

“Want? Since when has Robb wanted…”

The voices went silent.

The sudden sensation of being watched overwhelmed Myrcella.

“When is Rickon coming?”

She looked over her shoulder to see fiery emerald eyes peering at her through the darkness. A gasp slipped passed her lips. The candlestick slipped from her grasp and crushed her toes. A cry of pain tore from her throat. She took a step back on her unharmed foot and ended up stepping on the end of her night shift.

For a moment she thought she heard footsteps rushing toward the door over the sound of her heartbeat. Her world tilted as she fell onto her back and a howl echoed through the halls.

Her gaze connected with worried fiery green orbs before being forced to break connection when her head slammed against the floor.

Pain ripped through her head and breath left her lungs. All she could see was black.

“Myrcella!”

She forced her eyes open to see a young man with dark hair and dark grey eyes that looked almost black hovering over her. Black spots appeared in her sight obscuring most of his features.

“You have to stay awake.” His voice was soft and slightly raspy.

Her eyes fell close only to open slightly again when he grasped her face gently, but it did little to keep her grounded. Her world was turning black. Through the haze of pain, fear curled in the pit of her stomach. “Robb.” His name on the tip of her tongue as if she believed he could save her from the fear and pain that threatened to take her under.

The young man froze and his eyes widened.

Her eyes slid close.

The last thing she thought she heard was a roar.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait. I hope this chap at least somewhat made up for it. I also wanted to inform you guys that this fic might run slightly longer than five chapters like I originally planned. I got my fingers crossed that the next chap won't take as long to be written. (@_@)
> 
> PS: A huge thank you to everyone who has commented and/or given this work kudos/subscribed/bookmarked. You guys have kept this fic alive for the passed two years.


End file.
